


Flowers that Bloom in Silence

by mia6363



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Family Feels, Gen, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, Near Death Experiences, Self-Hatred, Spoilers, Team Bonding, Team as Family, spoilers for episode 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-30
Updated: 2018-01-30
Packaged: 2019-03-11 10:24:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13522266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mia6363/pseuds/mia6363
Summary: Bravewas not a word that was used when describing Caleb.Bravein all its prestige and strong letters would never adorn Caleb’s shoulders.





	Flowers that Bloom in Silence

_Brave_ was not a word that was used when describing Caleb. _Brave_ in all its prestige and strong letters would never adorn Caleb’s shoulders. 

_Abomination_ was a word that dressed Caleb. _Perversion, heretic,_ and _vagrant_ were also words that had been draped around Caleb’s life over the years. Those same words and every shadow of doubt they brought with him weighed heavily in his throat when Nott, his little _Nott_ leapt onto the hellish demon toad. He stood there and _did nothing_ as she drove her short-sword into the beast and Caleb, _worthless-weak-foolish_ Caleb, let his world fade to black. 

Death, it seemed, was too disgusted to keep him. 

The light he shot into Nott sputtered out as the instinctive fear faded from him. The air burned in his lungs and he felt like he’d been crushed by several rockslides. Everything _ached_ in a deep way, the cold fingers of death slowly retreating from his spine. Nott slowly came into focus, her body bloodied but still standing and tears running down her face. 

He wanted to apologize for reacting in fear, he wanted to ask what happened, to ask _what had she been thinking attacking its neck like that_? But everything _hurt_ and every breath, while returning life to his body, brought exhaustion closer. 

“Oh good,” Jester’s merry voice sounded like bells over cracked ice. “You’re alive. 

Caleb couldn’t do more than nod as their odd party rested in silence. He heard Nott’s voice whisper quietly to Jester. A weak, crackled around the voice of, _“I did it,”_ that sounded so proud… made Caleb smile as he drifted to sleep. 

::::

The next time he woke he was back at the inn and was in bed. He’d been partially undressed, down to his underclothes. Caleb’s arms jerked to instinctively cover himself. Prickles of dulled pain tugged at his skin. 

“Easy there, buddy.” Beauregard’s scratchy voice and calloused hand reached for him, helping him sit up. “Sorry about your clothes we just, uh, we were going to—” 

“I wanted to _burn them_ ,” Jester finished from the foot of the bed in a sing-song lilt. “But Fjord said it would be _rude_. So instead we are washing them.” 

Sure enough he could hear water sloshing in his wash room and Fjord’s low rumble of annoyance. Molly sat on his windowsill, slowly removing dirt from under his fingernails with a knife. He couldn’t remember the last time that so many people were near him who had no intent — _currently_ — of harming him. The amount of eyes on him made his skin buzz, his stomach souring as he gripped the sheets that pooled around his waist.

“Where—?” 

He coughed, his throat brittle from disuse. He could taste lingering iron on his tongue. A light tug on the blankets made him turn as he sucked air into his seizing lungs. Sure enough, Nott was there, elbows resting on the bedding. She heard his question despite his wheezing. She had fresh bandages on and bruises that spread from under her right eye down to her neck… but she was _alive_. 

Caleb recognized the uneasy silence that grew between them. Brushes with death and danger were often followed by silence, an existential dread that unfurled and bloomed deep in Caleb’s ribs. Those flowers that blossomed in silence would paralyze Caleb when he’d been alone. Alone with no outlet, Caleb had to wait for fear to release him. 

When he found Nott— more accurately, when Nott rescued him, he didn’t need to let the silence smother him. It would linger, but eventually Nott would blow out a long breath and they’d speak, sometimes about battle, sometimes just exchanging silly musings until the terrifying tendrils of silence decayed. 

Now they were with such a large group and Caleb didn’t know what to do. 

Luckily Jester didn’t share similar self-doubts. 

“Look!” Jester flung herself to sit beside Caleb, making the bedding bounce as she pulled Nott up onto her lap. She held out her hands to show Caleb the glittering rings that adorned them. “I pulled these out of the toad’s stomach. Well, I don’t if it was its stomach _exactly_ , but it was a fleshy pouch that was inside of it.” Caleb was glad his stomach was empty or else he might have been ill at the thought. Jester wiggled her fingers. “Aren’t they pretty?”

Caleb swallowed.

“They are very… pretty.” 

Jester grabbed Nott’s hand, fast enough that Nott flinched but didn’t pull away. 

“And look,” Jester showed Caleb’s Nott’s fingers that had three rings on them. “Nott has been _stealing_ from me. I’m so _proud_.” 

Jester tousled Nott’s hair. Fjord came out of the bathroom and hung Caleb’s clothes on a makeshift clothesline that had been strung up along the ceiling. He was bruised and bandaged, but Caleb knew the type of man that Fjord was. Injury and wear-and-tear had a habit of enhancing their handsome features. Caleb… he just felt weary and no matter how much spit he swallowed his throat never stopped being dry. 

“So, how did we defeat the beast?” 

Jester’s eyes lit up and soon Caleb’s bed was invaded by their weird, improvised party. Jester’s legs were heavy along his waist, Beauregard perched up on the headboard with a lazy slouch, Molly pushed himself off the windowsill to sit on the other side of Caleb with a “shove over,” and Fjord sat at the foot of the bed and his shoulders hunched to try and make himself as small as he could manage. 

“Oh man,” Beauregard’s joyful rasp came from behind him and her fingers pulled Caleb’s unkempt hair. “Those imps were a fucking hassle. But I _got ‘em_.” 

Molly shook his head. 

“I can’t believe I kept _missing_ , ugh.” He scrubbed his hand over his face, and Caleb caught the slight tremor in his fingers. “Disgraceful.” 

Jester rolled her eyes before she pointed at Fjord.

“Fjord killed it with his _super cool sword_! Where did you even get that? It was _dripping_ , and all these,” Jester gestured with her fingers, curling them as her face twisted with disgusted fascination, “ _barnacles_ grew on the hilt like weeds—” 

“It was a hard fight.” Fjord cleared his throat, gently interrupting his companion. “And that damn imp knocked me out right after I killed the toad.” 

Jester nodded. 

“Right, right. Wait— but _Nott_ , she was _amazing_!” 

Everyone lit up, crowding in close to all give Nott a rub on the head or a shove to her shoulder. Fjord’s “she just _jumped_ right up onto it and brought her little short sword down, wicked stuff,” was followed by Beauregard’s “and then it hit her, but she didn’t stay down and—” Jester threw her arms out dramatically and interjected, “She threw herself over you because we still had the _imps_ to deal with—” and the dreadful flowers of horrified silence grew thick in Caleb’s lungs, his fingers gripping the sheets tight as Mollymauk grinned, baring his teeth victoriously. “I was just able to get the curse to work before the imp could get her,” just as Nott showed off her torn jacket “it nicked my hood though!” 

Caleb managed a wobbly smile as their stories continued on, the fight for their lives now far enough in the past that they could laugh about it. He watched as they continued to talk, jest, and _share_ their joy with him and Nott. Nott smiled, unafraid to show her teeth. 

Every time she laughed, from the tiniest chuckle to full melodious giggles, it felt as though tiny lights were growing in Caleb’s chest. They were bright, beautiful, and they _blazed_ hot until he could hardly breathe. His eyes stung and eventually the jovial anecdotes died down into stifled yawns. 

“See you in the morning,” Jester pushed on Caleb’s shoulder to propel herself off his bed. “I am going to sleep now.” 

Everyone followed her example and eventually it was just Caleb and Nott. 

He felt his shoulders lower inch by inch until he felt semi-comfortable in his own skin, which was as good as it was going to get. Their room filled with a warm hush, a comfortable lull that never felt isolating. Nott took off her overcoat and hung it on the bedpost. White strips of cloth wrapped around her shoulder and abdomen, a bit coming loose around the edges. 

Caleb reached out to fix the bandages, his fingers working quickly to adjust the strips of cloth so they were more snug against Nott’s wounds. His fingers traced the faint traces of crimson stains. Nott turned when his fingers began to shake.

“Caleb?” Her tiny hands were in his, squeezing like she didn’t know why Caleb felt like wind was howling through him. “Are you hurt? Do you need Jester—?”

“You have,” Caleb’s vision was swimming in disbelief. “You have given me my life… so many times.” Caleb kept blinking, trying to focus but it was useless. Heavy tears clung to his eyelashes. “I have nothing to g-give you. I can’t hope to give you anything that would… come close to being _e-enough_.” 

Finally the tears fell, and he cried, hard and clumsy. His body shuddered, his lungs burned, and his face was puffy, red, and _ugly_. He cried the way children cried, undignified and loud. His limbs prickled as he sucked in too much air. 

Tiny arms wrapped around his middle. He clung to her tiny frame and was sure that he was scaring her, that his arms were smothering her, surely, but he couldn’t stop. He had to hold her, to be _held_ by her as he shook himself to pieces, one ragged breath at at time. After a few minutes he went slack, as though strings that held him upright had been cut. He was dizzy and his skin felt sensitive, rubbed raw. 

Despite his weight, Nott didn’t retreat. If anything, she pressed herself closer to him, encouraging Caleb’s grip. Her little fingers pet his back, gentle strokes. 

“You don’t need to get me anything.” She pulled back, wriggling a bit so that Caleb could see her. “We’re friends.” 

He heard the question behind it, thin and wavering. He nodded, pulling her close again. 

“Yes.” He kissed the crown of her head. “Yes, you’re the… you’re the best friend I’ve ever had.” 

She gripped his arms tight. 

“S-same here.” 

_Brave_ was still not a word that Caleb would apply to himself. The other words that had been hurled at him, branded onto his skin and psyche… were suddenly washed away. 

Caleb might not be brave… but he could be a _friend_.

**Author's Note:**

> Welp. I'm finally getting into Critical Role, just in time and I've fallen in love with everyone. I wanted to contribute something... I hope it's enjoyable. I just need these two disasters to give each other a hug. I needed all the hugs.
> 
> Come say hi to me on [**tumblr**](http://mia6363.tumblr.com/).


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